


Terms of Endearment

by BleedingInk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Saileen, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Meg Lives, Megstiel - Freeform, Pet Names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 20:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13509276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingInk/pseuds/BleedingInk
Summary: Castiel is trying to find a word that defines everything he feels for Meg.





	Terms of Endearment

There were certain human habits that Castiel had come to get used to. Cuddling in the sofa while watching a movie was one of them, and Meg seemed to enjoy that particular one, even if she usually used that as an excuse to begin physical contact as soon as she declared the movie “bored her”. On that particular occasion, she had passed a leg over Castiel’s knees and snuggled her head underneath his chin, but she hadn’t climbed on his lap to begin kissing him. At least, not yet. She apparently really wanted him to watch this movie and Castiel soon understood why.

“What’s with the frown, Clarence?” she asked, passing a finger by the furrow in his brow as if she was trying to smooth it out.

Castiel looked at the character in the black and white movie and then back at her.

“He doesn’t look like me.”

Meg glanced at the screen and chuckled.

“I mean, no, but…”

“And that’s not how being an angel works. Nobody had to earn their wings. We were created with them.”

“It’s just a pet name, Cas,” Meg explained, rolling her eyes. “You know, a thing you call someone you… care about.”

Castiel continued to stare at her, not sure that definition was entirely accurate. He cared for Sam and Dean, and he never called them anything but their names. Well, Sam’s name was “Samuel”, but he figured that the shortened version of someone’s name wasn’t the same thing.

“Someone you’re with,” Meg continued, sensing his confusion. She swallowed and grimaced before adding: “Someone you’re with _romantically_.”

“Oh.” Castiel nodded, understanding. “You mean, a term of endearment.”

“Sure, yeah. If you wanna go with that,” she replied, avoiding his eyes.

Castiel ran his fingers through Meg’s hair, absentmindedly. She wasn’t one to declare her love for him all that often. In fact, he could count on one hand the times she had said the three little words, and they had been about to die in at least three of those occasions. Times were calmer now, but even though they spent their nights and much of their days together, Meg still had difficult letting him know how she felt.

So it was very pleasant to know that every time she called him “Clarence”, she was expressing her love for him in a small way.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Meg asked.

“No reason,” Castiel lied and left a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Can I give you a pet name?”

“I mean, if you want to,” Meg said. She moved back a little bit to look at him with a crooked eyebrow. “What would you call me?”

Castiel tilted his head and lowered his arm to lasso it around Meg’s waist. She immediately got closer and accommodated herself on his lap, leaving a playful kiss right beneath his ear in the process.

“That will require serious consideration,” Castiel said, staring at her face.

Meg hummed as she left another kiss, this time on his Adam’s apple.

“Well, can you think about it while we make out?” she asked. “I’m bored.”

Castiel grinned and put a hand on her chin to guide her mouth to his.

 

* * *

 

It had to be said for the sake of truth that Castiel truly appreciated Dean’s friendship a lot. But he should have remembered why he had stopped going to him for relationship advice in the first place.

“I don’t understand,” Castiel said. “Why would I call her that?”

“It’s sexy, Castiel,” Dean insisted waving his beer at him.

“But it doesn’t make any sense. Why would that be sexy? She’s not…”

“It just means she’s something you find cute and want to protect,” Dean said. “Don’t give it too much thought. Just try it. You’ll see.”

Castiel was inclined to give it thought despite it, but Dean had been with several women, as he was always reminding Castiel, so he must have known what he was talking about. In fact, during the entirety of their conversation, he was eyeing a redheaded woman sitting a few tables from them, winking at her until she smiled back. Castiel didn’t want to be, as his friend had accused him of in the past, “a cockblock”, so he flew away leaving Dean to his conquest.

But he did decide to put his advice to the test just a few hours later at home. He and Meg lived in an isolated cabin near a lake (which lake, he had only revealed that to the Winchesters) because it was easier to let the years slip by them without neighbors noticing how they weren’t aging. And also, because every time they made love it seemed to cause certain… alterations in the atmosphere that were easier to hide if no one was there to observe them.

The storm outside was barely beginning to form, the clouds swirling over the roof of their cabin and a light drizzling tapping against the window. Meg had decided they should ditch dinner (because it wasn’t like they needed to eat anyway) and instead had lured Castiel to stand between her legs while she sat on the kitchen’s counter. Her mouth was insistent and her fingers were eager while they struggled with the buttons of his shirt.

“You want this, Clarence?” she asked as she moved her mouth to leave a hickie on his neck.

“Yes.” Castiel sucked in his breath, enjoying the feeling of her, the smell of smoke in her skin. He slid a hand underneath her shirt to toy with the clasp of her bra and muttered. “Yes, I want this…” The word almost got caught up in his throat, because a part of his brain still refused to accept this was an appropriate pet name. But after a few seconds, he managed to roll it out of his tongue: “… baby”.

Meg stopped everything she was doing as if struck by lightning. She slowly pulled away from him, incredulity making her brown eyes bigger.

“What?”

He was an Angel of the Lord. He was a warrior of Heaven. He didn’t blush. He didn’t stutter. Yet, he found himself doing both those things when he repeated it:

“B-baby…”

Meg burst out laughing, and continued even after Castiel stepped away from the counter and started buttoning up his shirt again.

“No, no, Cas, wait up,” Meg said, but she had to stop to lean over while another fit of chuckles reached her throat. “W-wait up… wait, I’m sorry.”

She held on to his arm, but even though she had apologized, she was still laughing so hard she had to hide her face in his shirt. Castiel waited until she calmed down, half-annoyed by her reaction, half-embarrassed about the fact that it wasn’t entirely unexpected if he was honest with himself.

Meg was nothing like a human infant. She wasn’t “cute”, she was breathtakingly gorgeous, even in the twisted shape of her true form. And while yes, he wanted to protect her from harm because he loved her, it wasn’t something that Meg really needed him to do.

“Did Dean tell you to call me that?” Meg guessed correctly once she managed to speak again without being interrupted by her own giggles. “Oh, that was bad. That was really bad, Clarence.”

“I’m starting to realize,” Castiel said, with a groan.

Meg looked at him with twitchy lips, as if she was barely holding back another laugh, and again pressed her finger against his frown.

“Come on, don’t be so hard on yourself. You didn’t expect to get it right the first time, did you?”

 

* * *

 

He also didn’t get it right the second time. Having failed the “baby” experiment, he thought he could try a more literal approach.

They were sitting on their dock, watching the sun disappear behind the trees, its orange curve reflecting on the clear waters in front of them. Castiel had brought a blanket to wrap around the two of them. Another human habit that he enjoy despite Meg’s complaints that it was “corny”. This particular evening, however, she was relaxed against his body, her fingers intertwined with his.

“Now, that’s a sight you don’t see every day,” Meg commented. “Don’t you think so, angel?”

“It is quite beautiful,” Castiel agreed. “Demon.”

Meg’s body stiffened right before she pulled away from him, again staring at him with incredulity, only this time it was mixed with a hint of anger too.

“What did you call me?”

It sounded like one of those times it was best to backtrack and deny he had said whatever it was that he’d just said. But his confusion was stronger than his common sense.

“I… why is that bad?” he asked. “You call me ‘angel’ all the time.”

“Yeah, because that’s what you are.”

“You _are_ a demon, Meg.”

Meg stood up and marched inside of the cabin, taking the blanket with her. Castiel waited a few seconds to make sure she wasn’t blowing up the windows or throwing stuff at the wall and then followed her inside. She was pacing around the small distance from the living room to the kitchen, as if she hadn’t quite decided yet to start throwing things at the wall.

“Meg,” he called her gently. “Please, tell me what I did wrong so I can apologize.”

Meg stopped her pacing and looked up at him with a sigh.

“I don’t like it,” she said, simply.

“I understood that much. I’m having trouble figuring out the reason.”

“Because I’m not just _a_ demon,” Meg explained. “I might have been just _a_ demon when we first met, just _a_ demon that you wanted to kill or… but I’m not just _a_ demon now, am I?” She sighed and shook her head. “It’s not that I’m not aware of all the wrong I did. It’s not that I’m… sorry for it or whatever. But you’re supposed to be the one who sees past all those things, you know?”

Castiel nodded, feeling stupid one more time. He didn’t think Meg thought about those times, the times when they were enemies, when they would have killed each other without a second thought. But now he could see why a reminder of that would upset her.

“I know,” he said, stretching his arms towards her. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

Meg threw him a warning glare, but she still walked up to him and let him hug her.

“Is it weird that I call you ‘angel’?” she asked as Castiel pressed her against him. “Because I’ve never thought about it. I just assumed…”

“It’s fine.” Castiel chuckled against her hair. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah,” Meg sighed and lifted up her face at him. “I think I’m gonna stick to ‘Clarence’ from now on anyway.”

 

* * *

 

Meg hated what she called his “social visitations”, and Castiel sometimes felt obligated to make a half-hearted attempt to convince her to come along. He understood that she would get nervous to be in the same house as a former hunter who mistrusted her and usually kept an eye on her and a saltshaker at hand at all times. But at the same time, as Castiel had argued on numerous occasions, said hunter _was_ Sam’s wife, and Sam would never let her hurt Meg. They weren’t friends, exactly, but unlike Dean, Sam at least tolerated her presence and didn’t make comments about her relationship with Castiel.

Meg still would rather avoid those “visits”, and on that particular night, Castiel didn’t try to coax her into coming with him. He needed to consult some things with Sam in private.

To his great embarrassment, he found the “baby” incident just as hilarious as Meg had.

“You need to stop listening to Dean,” Sam said when he could finally stop laughing. “‘Baby’ is something you call a girl you have a one-night stand with when you can’t remember her name. Not that I would know anything about that,” he added quickly when Eileen returned with their drinks.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Eileen said simply, putting down the platter with the drinks: two bottles of beer for Sam and Castiel, a glass of water for her. Sam quickly stood up to move the chair for her. Her pregnant belly made it harder for her to move those days, but she still insisted on playing the host whenever Castiel came around.

“I’m trying to find a term of endearment for Meg,” Castiel explained, turning his head to Eileen so she could read his lips. “Something… kind. Sweet.”

Eileen didn’t hide her surprise.

“I mean… isn’t that a little bit too… human?”

Castiel thought about it. He thought about the movies in the couch, and the sunsets on the dock, and the meals in the kitchen that they didn’t really need. He thought about how it became less and less frequent that they had to protect their home from angels and demons alike, he thought about how the Winchesters rarely called him anymore to help them solve a problem. Dean kept hunting, though not as frequently, and Sam had settled down. Castiel and Meg had done the same thing, he figured: slowing down, enjoying each other now that the world had become a less chaotic place.

He figured it was a very human thing to do, but he had never been a perfect example of an angel and Meg didn’t seem as concerned with being a demon as she once was.

“I guess it is,” he said, smiling.

Eileen looked at her husband as if he thought it was some kind of joke, but Sam shrugged. Eileen took a sip from her water and leaned over a little bit.

“Well, you can’t call her whatever name just because,” she said. “It has to be something meaningful. To you and to her.”

Castiel thanked her for the advice. He drank his beer and listened to Sam telling him about the latest news in his mundane little life: about his work as a repairman, about the crib he was building for the baby. Dean was out on another hunt, but he had said that he would be back to crash on their couch and stay with them during the final weeks of Eileen’s pregnancy.

After a few hours, Castiel stood up and announced he had to go home. He could have simply flown away, but he didn’t want to do anything sudden that might shock Eileen. He let them walk him to the door and gave a quick hug to Sam before gently placing his hand on Eileen’s belly.

“She’s growing strong,” he told her. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“Thank you.”

Eileen waved at him when Castiel turned around at the fence to say goodbye one last time. She and Sam retreated inside their home and that was the end of the visitation.

Castiel stayed in the garden, however, observing them, invisible. He couldn’t explain why, exactly. It was just so peaceful there and he felt happy to see Sam happy, after everything he had been through. Dean was happy too, in his own way, but it was Sam who seemed more at peace with his choices.

Through the window, Castiel watched him help Eileen to the couch. They weren’t speaking, but Eileen was gesticulating to him, telling him that she wasn’t going to break. Sam shook his head and he too made some gestures with his hands. His movements weren’t as fluid or confident as hers, but the message he transmitted was still very clear.

_Love._

Eileen smiled and patted the couch next to her. Sam sat down and put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to hug her as tight as he dared, Castiel imagined. He turned away when Sam leaned down to kiss his wife, feeling he had already intruded too much in their privacy.

But he kept thinking about that very simple interaction.

He didn’t know if Sam had been telling Eileen he loved her or if he had intended to call her “love”. For what he’d come to understand about terms of endearment, the distinction didn’t seem all that important. However, the way Sam had expressed it was what stuck with him. He had said it in a language that Eileen didn’t have any difficulty understanding.

In a way, that was meaningful for the two of them.

 

* * *

 

During the next couple of days, Castiel watched Meg closely. Closer than he had before, anyway: he heard her singing in the shower and fixing the bike she used when she wanted to go somewhere. He watched her laugh or rage at their movies and he watched her for hours while they laid in bed together, naked and content, with her hair spread on the pillows.

She turned around one of those nights and fixed her eyes on him.

“What’s got into you?” she asked him. “You’re being weirder than usual.”

“I thought you didn’t mind my weirdness.”

“I don’t. But you know, I’m just trying to figure out the reason.”

She had a lock of hair falling on her forehead. Castiel stretched his hand and gently brushed it aside.

“There’s no word for love in Enochian.”

Meg frowned, obviously confused and Castiel chuckled as he slid a finger through the creases that formed between her eyebrows.

“Not for this kind of love, anyway. Words that refer to loyalty, to obedience, yes, we have those. But not for this. However, I’ve been thinking and I believe there is word that comes very close to what I feel for you. In fact, I think it’s exactly the word that I’ve been looking for. I would like to call you that.”

 “Okay.” Meg still looked a little baffled at whatever he was trying to tell her, but she smiled anyway. “Well, don’t leave a girl hanging. What’s the word?”

“ _Hoath_.”

The word slid out from his mouth easily, soft and charged with every emotion that flooded him every time he was with Meg. Despite being under the covers, Meg shivered at the sound, as if Castiel had pronounced a spell that affected her very being, the black smoke that hid beneath the human body she was occupying.

“What’s it mean?” she asked, in a whisper.

Castiel brought her closer to him before leaving a kiss just at the edge of her lips.

“It means to revere,” he said, his hands sliding up and down her back slowly. “To venerate. To worship.”

Meg shivered again. She looked up at him, her eyes wide once more. This time, the incredulity was tinted with something akin to wonder, to amazement.

“Cas, dammit. I just call you a silly name from a movie.”

Castiel chuckled against her shoulder as he slowly turn her around in the bed and pressed her down with his body. She was strong enough to hold him, he knew that.

“But it means something, even if I don’t quite grasp what it is,” he pointed out. “This is what you mean to me, Meg. This is how I feel for you.”

She let out a deep sigh, her body finally relaxing against him.

“Well, then we need to watch the movie again until you get it through your thick, thick skull,” she said, putting her arms around his neck. Her eyes glinted playfully as she smirked at him. “Say it again.”

“ _Hoath_ ,” Castiel muttered in her ear.

“Again.”

“ _Hoath_.”

“Again…”

Castiel stopped to kiss her deeply before he obeyed:

“ _Hoath_ ,” he repeated. “My worshipped one.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was ranting to my friends about how I felt it was out of character for Castiel to call anyone "baby" or "babe" in fics, so of course I had to write an entire fic about it. I blame them.


End file.
